Chapter 38
Jack
Leave it to a religious zealot to make everything about faith.
Found twenty bucks?
Blessed.
Good athlete?
Blessed.
Eidetic memory?
Blessed.
They’re just coincidences, but not for Morgan.
I cannot believe that woman showed up like a stalker.
I knew if my preacher-side came out, her panties would be drenched.
That was never a part of me I wanted her to see.
And for good reason. Now I have a shadow because of a coincidence. Not because of who I am.
I grab branches and toss them into a giant metal container, followed by a broken planter and trash bags. Morgan’s right behind me, dragging two heavy bags of debris. She chucks them high.
One straddles the container edge, the other hits the side and falls onto the ground. I side-eye her as I pick it up and throw it into the bin.
She watches me like I just performed a miracle.
This second-coming of Jesus idea in her dumb head needs to stop, so I fold my arms and look down at her, annoyed.
“How did you end up on the same roster as me?” I gesture around at the twenty other men working, all my age. “This group is for guys who need community service hours.”
I shrug. “God works in mysterious ways.”
“Real mysterious,” I grumble, knowing she weaseled her way into my group.
She gives an innocent smile and follows me like a lost puppy. This is getting ridiculous. I am about to tell her to go fuck off somewhere else, but she speaks first.
“What hotel are you staying at tonight?”
I keep walking and answer dismissively, “The Lighthouse Nooks. Too dirty for a princess like you.”
“Oh. Can I stay with you?”
I freeze and my eyes bulge at the outrageous request.
Thump!
I spin around.
“Easy! I got ya,” says Alex, the group leader, who grasps Morgan’s forearm and helps her stand.
She must’ve tripped and fallen on the sidewalk’s uneven edge. He leans down and swipes at the sand on the knees of her overalls.
My gaze fixes on his hands touching her. I snap my eyes shut and force myself to step away. I slip behind a building to catch my breath. My heart is racing way too damn fast.
“Christ,” I scold. “Nope. I’m good. Nothing happened.”
Except, something did. That rage sparked. That protective energy I felt at the diner clawed to the surface from just seeing another guy touching her.
He was simply helping her. I’m so fucked. I can’t be around that woman. I thought this lose-my-mind-shit was over.
I draw in a deep breath and hold it, then exhale slowly, trying to calm myself.
“There you are!” says Morgan, appearing from around the corner.
Of course she found me.
“You alright?” she asks, her smile fading.
“Uh huh. Fine.”
“You look pale,” she murmurs. Concern swirls in those deep emerald-brown eyes. She reaches for my face, and I do a quick side-step to evade her touch. “Jack? What is it?”
The group leader blows a whistle. “Wrap it up! We’re done.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s over. One day down. Two to go.
I practically run away from Morgan without another word.
A short drive later, I check into my lodging.
It’s a building of eight bedrooms arranged in a circle that opens to a shared kitchen, living room, and porch.
It’s older. Kinda moldy ocean scent. Popcorn ceilings, creaky floorboards, and a small television in each bedroom.
But it’s clean, close, and cheap. Many from my group are staying here for the same reasons.
I take a shower, wrap a towel around my hips, and—
Through the wall, a muffled laugh carries. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle.
This isn’t happening.
I stride out of the bathroom, bedroom, and grip the door handle.
Please don’t be her.
I open the door and lean out. My gaze spans over the living room. People lounge around the big television. There are a few on the porch drinking beer. Then my gaze lands on the kitchen.
Two guys laugh. One mixes a drink and pours it into a red solo cup. Morgan, like a little rabbit, appears between the two wolves and takes a sip.
“Ew! No, I don’t like it!” She laughs wildly and returns the drink. “I’m not a fan of vodka.”
The guy takes it back, smiling. “I’ll make it lighter.”
Ugh.
They’re flirting.
That sick, heart racing feeling returns in full force.
“Jack!” she yips excitedly and bounces toward me.
It’s been a long day. I’m tired. I’m angry. I’m on edge. I just want it to end.
I lean on the doorframe, my eyelids heavy.
“Morgan, why are you here?”
“Oh, Alex invited me over to hang out.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. I swear, she’ll be the death of me.
“Hey, you okay? I was really worried about you today.” She strokes my bicep.
Her touch makes my stomach knot.
My eyes dart to hers and I glare. “What’s your goal here, church girl? Quit the games.”
“Yo, Morgan! Come over here. Try this one.” Alex holds up a cup.
“One second.” She smiles at him, her grin too wicked for such a pure thing. But faster, she crowds me, her hands clutched together.
“Can I come inside your room to talk, or should I go hang with Alex?”
“You little—”
She presses her palms to my stomach as she slips by me, entering my room as if I invited her in.
I sigh and shut the door behind us. She sits on the end of the bed, searching around.
I don’t move. “Start talking.”
That makes her cutesy grin waver.
“I just came here to volunteer.”
I say nothing and leer, letting her know I don’t buy it.
She rests her hands on her lap, fidgeting nervously. “You look handsome in... just a towel.”
“Morgan,” I warn.
She presses her lips together tightly, then slides off the bed. Slowly, she unclips her overalls and tugs them down until they gather at her ankles.
“What are you doing? Don’t.”
She glances from under her brow before lifting her tee-shirt over her head, revealing her large breasts tethered down in a white bra.
Oh, no.
“Don’t come a step closer,” I growl, heart thrumming. My back presses to the door. I need space between us. “Put your clothes back on.”
She keeps her gaze fixed on me, then unhooks her bra.
My mouth parts at the sight.